


Now you see it...

by Madame de flammes (owlaholic68)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mild Language, Prophetic Visions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/Madame%20de%20flammes
Summary: Angus McDonald’s first vision was of a town, turned to ash and black glass. Then it was the train. And the tree. And the grass fading to gray and the sky turning to ink and the world ending-





	1. Chapter 1

Angus McDonald is six years old when he first sees it. His first vision. 

Phandalin is a medium-sized town, rustic but well-made. A thriving marketplace, several comfortable inns, all framed by the Sword mountain range to the south. Angus McDonald is riding on the back of a cart on his way to Neverwinter. He rubs his eyes, yawning, and blinks. 

Phandalin is gone. In its place is a circle of black glass. 

He blinks and the town is back, as if nothing had happened. Angus blinks again, shaking his head a little, confused. There’s a tickle in the back of his head, something half-remembered and mostly forgotten, then it’s gone. 

He forgets about it. Until it happens again. 

His parents live in Goldcliff, and he visits them every month, taking the train with his grandpa. They’re walking past the large bank in the center of town, weaving through crowds to sit by the edge of a shallow pool. His grandpa goes off to fetch them some ice cream, since Angus is seven years old and really likes ice cream, especially the soft Goldcliff variety. 

The sun is sparkling off the water, glittering flecks of light from the gaudy bank behind him sending sparks of light through the pool. Angus takes off his glasses, wipes them on a plain white handkerchief embroidered with the initials A.M., and puts them back on. 

There’s a flash a light that blinds him, just for a second, then it’s clear again. There’s a tree in the center of the pool where there wasn’t before, light pink froths of petals flying in his face. Angus stands. He doesn’t look away, afraid that this vision, if that’s what this really is, will disappear if he does. He walks forward, unconcerned with the water that’s soaking the hem of his pants and his shoes and his nice socks, wading through the pool towards the tree. There’s three people standing around it, but he doesn’t bother with them, focusing instead on the tree. It looks strange, almost as if there are two people inside of it-

“Angus, what are you doing?” His grandpa’s voice snaps him out of it. The old man is standing on the edge of the pool, two ice cream cones in his hands. 

“I’m sorry!” He calls out, wading back to solid ground, his clothing wet and heavy. “I don’t know what happened, sir, I thought I saw-” He looks back and sees no tree, no other people in the water- “I thought I saw something. I’m sorry, I’m very sorry, sir.” 

His grandpa sighs and hands him an ice cream cone. “Well, just don’t do it again. The currents can get pretty strong in the middle of the river. Now come on, there’s someone we need to go see.” 

He looks over his shoulder once again as they walk away. But nothing’s there. 

* * *

Angus McDonald is eight years old when he sees a man fall out of the sky. He won’t stop thinking about it, and eventually he tells someone, and then they tell someone else, and a week later he finds himself in a dim room with dusty magical tomes and shelves of potions around him. 

“Look in this bowl,” an old man? Woman? Instructs him, pushing a bowl of water into his hands. He looks down dutifully. The best Seer in all of Rockport, according to the rumors. And the McDonald family wanted nothing but the best for their son. Of course, they really just wanted him to stop bothering them with his “imaginary” visions. “Now what do you see?” 

“Me,” he whispers. His own reflection stares back up at him, looking slightly disappointed. “Just me, was I supposed to see something special-”

“No, that was just to make sure you weren’t lying,” they say, taking the bowl from him, chuckling a bit under their breath. “Can never be too sure. Now, tell me about these visions. Are they of the past, or the future?” 

He shrugs. “Both, maybe? I can’t really tell.” 

They push a mirror into his hands. “Okay. That’s normal. Tell me what you see in this mirror, please.” 

The moon. The Stillwater Sea. A thunderstorm. Something flying through the sky, elegant and silver. A patch of grass somewhere turning grey, withering and shrivelling up. All of Faerun laid out before him as if he was up in the sky looking down. An sick  _ something _ that swirls around him.

“Whoa, there, slow down,” the Seer says, taking the mirror from him. Angus holds his head. “You have a wealth of untapped magic, my boy. You see visions of the past  _ and  _ the future. Use this information wisely. You will be a great Seer one day. Do not be afraid of your gift, trust it.” 

Without any further ado, they kick him out of their hut and into the bright Rockport day. He stumbles before catching himself on a fencepost. He blinks rapidly to clear his vision, then sighs. His grandpa was waiting for him at the train station. He rubs his eyes before starting on his way. 

He might as well learn to deal with this. Maybe it’ll even come in useful one day. All he can do is hope. 

* * *

The train ride back to Neverwinter is smooth, the hours being eaten up as they pass through the mountains, then wavy plains of wheat, then more mountains. Angus is reading a book, a new series called  _ Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop _ . It’s wonderful so far, the mystery keeping him on edge. Or, it had been, until he solved the murder halfway through. 

He taps his fingers on the table, then stops himself. He folds his hands on his lap. There are only a few other passengers on this train. Angus looks to his right at the empty booths across the aisle. 

Except they’re not empty. With a dizzying flash, he sees himself sitting there, looking older, though only by a few years. 

“I can explain everything if you come with me to my sleeper car,” Angus is saying, looking up at three men. Well, he’s looking  _ up  _ at two of them, and slightly down at the other. All three of them have their backs to him, so he can’t see their faces. “There might be prying eyes. And listening ears!” 

Angus, in real life, slowly stands and follows his vision-self down the corridor of the train. He can’t tell if it’s the same train, or if it just looks like it. He quickly tries to analyze his own appearance. Fancy outfit, blue tweed, with a smart-looking dark blue cap over his curls. Not something he owns, so definitely in the future. Future-him also has a small blue book, a small packet of what looks like tools, and a magnifying glass. 

Vision-Angus has a wonderfully luxurious sleeper car, which seems a bit odd, since he is clearly still young. “My name is Angus McDonald. That part you already know.” This is so disorienting, listening to his own voice, watching himself talk. “Uh, I am, and I’m not being braggy, because I-- my grandpa says not to do that, but I am the world’s greatest detective.” 

A detective. This must the future. Angus is a detective. 

The train jolts and Angus stumbles, one hand on the wall of the car to stay upright. The vision disappears between one blink and the next, like a soap bubble popping. He frowns. What did that one even  _ mean _ ? 

But Angus is going to be a detective one day. The world’s greatest detective. He might as well start here. 

* * *

Angus McDonald has just turned ten years old, and he doesn’t remember what his very first vision was anymore.

This is odd, but no mystery is too great for the world’s greatest detective! He writes down what he knows, trying to work around the strange fog in his head when he tries to recall. 

_ I was in a town. I saw the town, and then I didn’t. It was... _ He taps his pencil against the paper, biting his lip. This is where he starts to lose the thread.  _ Destroyed. Not there anymore. Something else was there instead. The name of the town was… _ He frowns.  _ That  _ is the strangest thing for him to forget. He looks at a map and tries asking around, but he gets no leads. 

Maybe he was too young. But that doesn’t seem right, because he remembers everything before and after this town, whatever this town was. Maybe his grandpa knows. But his grandpa is in Neverwinter, and Angus is in Rockport, investigating a case related to the Rockport Limited. 

Luck is on his side. His case and his personal wishes line up. He buys a ticket, ignoring the short flash of a swampy forest that used to be the train station, maybe hundreds of years ago, shaking himself. Not all of his visions were useful, and not all of them were amazing. Sometimes, he just looked over his shoulder and saw a person buying bread at the market that wasn’t there a second ago, and who isn’t there a second later. 

As soon as he boards the train, he realizes that  _ this  _ is the scene from his vision almost two years ago, when he learned that he would become a detective. Duh. How did he not realize sooner? He even has his interceptor book and detective equipment, and is wearing the same exact outfit. 

There’s a small part of Angus that never believed his visions were real. There’s a quiet voice in the back of his head that had always sneered at his ideas. But that insidious voice is immediately quieted when three men matching the men in his vision approach him. The incident plays out, and Angus gets more information than he had originally anticipated. 

When all of the mess with the Neverwinter militia is sorted out, and the whole affair explained, Angus steps out of the Neverwinter North station and looks to the east. He sees something flash in the sky, the reflection almost blinding him. He rubs his eyes and looks again. There’s nothing but some clouds skidding across the blue expanse. 

* * *

When Angus is approached by a tall orc woman, he is not surprised. What he  _ is  _ surprised by, however, is what he sees with over her shoulder as she leads him away. 

He sees this woman getting married, surrounded by a crowd whose faces he cannot discern. Then he blinks and he sees the woman on the ground, wiping blood from her mouth as she raises a crossbow. Then he sees this woman, but she’s not a woman, she’s a young girl, punching a bigger boy in the face. Then he sees-

“Whoa, kid,” she gently shakes shoulder. They’re out past the city limits now. “You okay?” 

Killian, she said her name was. Normally Angus didn’t trust random strangers approaching him on the street and taking him places, but she wore a bracer just like the other men had worn, a shiny silver bracer that he sees on his own wrist sometimes, when he’s half-asleep or half-awake, whichever is less awake. 

He nods, looking up at the glass ball that lands in front of them. “I’m fine, Ma’am, thank you.” 

* * *

The Voidfish. Of course. 

His first vision was of Phandalin. And now everything else that had teased at the edges of his understanding comes back to him now. 

The Voidfish leisurely twirls in its tank, the lights inside its body twinkling. Angus approaches the tank to take a closer look, and he sees something in the bottom of the tank. He puts his hands against the glass and squints down, and it almost looks like there’s another, smaller, Voidfish there, nestled against the bigger one. He frowns and turns to Johann. 

“What is-” He turns back and it’s gone. His back stiffens and he peers back down at the tank. “Uh, sorry, Sir. Nevermind.” 

Was that a past or future vision?


	2. Chapter 2

His visions are place-based, that much is easy to tell. Sometimes they veer off-course and focus on one person, showing him past and present and future all at the same time, like with Killian. Those types of visions are the worst. They hammer at his brain and drum out explosive symphonies on his skull. 

“So, we’re going to go with a simple, easy-peasy one today,” Taako sing-songs, leaning on the wall of the cafeteria with Umbra Staff in hand. “Madame  _ Director  _ apparently was not  _ happy  _ with the whole fire thing, so we’re going, well, more like  _ you’re  _ going to try something a little, uh, less explosive.” 

Angus sits at the ready. His wand is on the table behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees himself dodge out of the way of a Scorching Ray that burns into the wall. He turns away from it. Easy to ignore. A past vision from just a few days ago, their last magic lesson. (Magic lesson! From Taako! He can almost forget about the macaron disaster!) 

“So, uh, there’s a coupla different cantrips you can try, shit that won’t take up your spell slots while you work on your Disguise Self. Let’s see,” he flips through a worn spellbook. “Ooh, boy, you don’t really know any Divi-Divimin-other schools of magic. Obviously, Transmutation is the dopest, and Evocation’s pretty swell too, but you should really get a feel for, uh, a wide range before committing, ya know?” He hums and tosses his braid over his shoulder with the tip of the Umbra Staff. “How ‘bout True Strike? Might help ya in your good ol’ detective business, Ango. It’s uh, somatic components only, so you just point at some thug and you know their weaknesses, how best to fuck them up.” 

They practice for a bit before Angus thinks he has it. He stands up straighter, focuses on Taako, and points, pulling on his magical core like Taako had taught him. 

Taako turns into a mess of static, and Angus can’t look at him. He turns his gaze to the side and sees someone else there, but he can’t  _ really  _ see them either, but they have the Umbra Staff, they’re hugging Taako from the side and laughing. 

Taako is alone, horrified and staring into the middle distance, except Angus still can’t really look straight at him. Taako’s hair is shorter, he thinks. Maybe. Maybe this is the past? He doesn’t have the Umbra Staff, just a simple wand outstretched in his trembling hand-

Taako is dressed up even fancier than he normally is, smiling at someone and twirling a lock of hair around his fingers, a glass of wine in his other hand-

Taako is on the floor, his leg twisted at a nauseating angle, coughing up blood-

Taako is an Elven child, darting around a kitchen and laughing, and there’s someone else there too, Angus knows, but he isn’t sure, and looking at the empty space next to young Taako is starting to make him dizzy-

Taako is talking to Angus on the train-

Taako is telling Angus that he trusts him-

“Angus!” Taako is in front of him, his hands on his shoulders, his face uncharacteristically concerned. “Pumpkin, kemosabe, look at me-” 

“Sir?” Angus croaks. He blinks and loses his balance, grasping for his sense of stability. Taako is there to provide, lifting him with an exaggerated grunt and setting him on the cafeteria table bench. 

“It was just a fucking cantrip, Ango, what could have even gone wrong?” Taako is back to his aloof self, sitting on the table next to Angus. “You looked like a, uh, a zombie, my man. Did’ya accidentally cast Charm Person on yourself or somethin’? Cause you were wacked out, pumpkin.” 

Angus takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, trying to dispel the headache building there. “I don’t know, Sir. Maybe I’m all tuckered out for the day. I am just a little boy.” 

Taako shrugs, trying to look like he doesn’t care, but Angus nails this particular perception check, and notices his hands turning the Umbra Staff over and over again in his hands, one of Taako’s most visible nervous tics. “Well, go rest up and eat all the food your little bod needs. Maybe just focus on Disguise Self for now, save your cantrip practice for Light and Mage Hand.” He sighs. “You just might be shit at Div-that kind of magic. Or maybe you’re wicked good, and accidentally cast something nutso on yourself, uh, you never know.” 

* * *

Angus doesn’t normally have special dreams. Most of his nighttime sleeping adventures are the standard kind, like forgetting to put on clothing or normal things, like being chased through a forest or flying or falling. 

This dream, though, is getting kind of elaborate. It’s realistic enough that Angus doesn’t even realize he’s dreaming until Taako smiles at him and gives him a cookie, and that’s  _ weird _ , because Taako very specifically does not Cook and does not Smile like that and is not Nice, not this openly. 

Angus had woken up in this dream. He had gotten dressed and washed his face and went downstairs for breakfast. Then, he had brushed his teeth. What kind of dream includes that level of detail? The house he was in was very nice, and he had stayed in all day, reading the newest  _ Caleb Cleveland  _ book, something about a farm and a cult, and Angus was excited because he hadn’t read this one yet, because it had just came out, and Kravitz had bought it for him for his birthday-

Who was Kravitz? Angus, in the dream, takes the cookie from Taako and dunks it in a glass of milk. This is a weird dream, because this is soymilk, and how did Taako even know that Angus prefers soymilk for cookie dipping? 

This dream isn’t taking place in Angus’ moonbase room, he realizes, a little too slowly for his liking. He is the world’s greatest detective, he should probably notice these things sooner. This room is bigger and has mountains of bookshelves in one corner. Angus, in the dream, frowns and stands up. 

Real-Angus wakes up, a frown still on his face. Was he starting to have prophetic  _ dreams  _ now too? Or was it  _ just  _ a dream?

* * *

Merle doesn’t seem to like him very much. Magnus almost seems to like him too much, too enthusiastically for Angus to make sense of. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like them anyways. They’re agreeable, they’re role models each in their own twisted way. 

“-would be to fire you guys off to your destination without killing you. But-” Angus looks to his left for a second at the cannons, the three Reclaimers in front of him in various states of fashion. 

Those same Reclaimers are coming out of a cannonball. Well, two of them are. Merle looks, frankly, like hell frozen over, leaning heavily on the handle of his warhammer. Taako, next to him, is holding his stomach, his clothing stained with blood, his eyes lined with dark circles, his breathing heavy.

And Magnus is not there. Magnus is not with them. Instead, there’s a wooden mannequin holding a small bell-the Animus Bell, Angus’ memory reminds him-and carrying all of Magnus’ equipment. And Taako’s saying something, and Carey’s crying and Avi looks like he’s going to break down too, because Magnus is  _ dead _ -

“Kid?” Merle hesitantly says, putting a hand on Angus’ shoulder, breaking the vision. 

“Sorry, sirs,” he says, shaking his head quickly to dispel the last wisps of confusion from what he had seen. “I’m just very nervous, this is my first time manning the cannon-”

* * *

Magnus is going to die. Magnus is going to die. Magnus is going to die and there’s nothing Angus is going to be able to do to stop it, because he can’t interfere with the future. It’s not even just a moral thing, because Angus  _ could maybe  _ interfere, but every time he opens his mouth to try, or steps a foot out of his predestined line, something stops him. He has to let these things happen. 

He  _ has  _ to let Magnus die trying to retrieve the Animus Bell. 

* * *

One of Angus’ primary jobs is to do research. Mostly, it’s the book-related kind, but once in a while he feels the urge to stretch his legs. 

Today, this brings him down to the ruins of Phandalin. Really, he doesn’t have any specific research to do here, he’s just curious. He can’t help it. He just wants to  _ know _ . 

His shoes sound too loud on the smooth black glass, the heels of his fancy-boy shoes tapping on the surface. There’s no one around for miles. Nobody outside of the Bureau even knows this place exists. Angus shivers. He almost wishes he’d brought someone with him.

But he’s very glad he’s alone when the glass under his feet suddenly turns bright blue, an overwhelming sapphire color. He yelps in surprise and falls backwards, catching himself on his elbows. 

There’s a man kneeling on the glass, a black cloak billowing around him and a scythe in one of his hands. The man looks up, his eyes wide with shock, and seems to stare right through Angus. 

“Taako…” The man says. His voice is deep and smooth, filled with awe and relief. Angus, ever observant even during these visions, notices his small skull earrings and the pendant around his neck: a reaper, an agent of the Raven Queen. Who would Taako know who would be a reaper who wouldn’t be hostile?

“Kravitz!” Taako exclaims, running to embrace the other man. Kravitz. That was the name in Angus’ dream, and wasn’t that the name of the reaper in Lucas’ lab?

The scene disappears and the glass turns black again. Angus breathes a little easier, slowly rising to his feet, slipping a little on the surface, one hand down on the glass to help him balance. 

He raises his head and there’s an elf in front of him. An elven woman, he thinks, though he can’t see her face. 

Weirdly, this woman looks like Taako. Maybe they’re siblings or something? Angus’ mind slips like a stripped screw when he tries to make that connection. Instead of trying to force himself to work through it, he takes out his notebook.  _ Elven woman. Red robe or jacket. Dark skin. Maybe freckles. Short dark hair. Good sturdy boots. She looks to come from the same type of elf as Taako. Looks very very similar to how Taako would look if he was a woman.  _ She’s holding something and walking fast, weaving in between where buildings of Phandalin would have been. Past vision, then. 

She’s holding the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet. She’s holding an umbrella that looks hauntingly familiar. Angus hastily writes all of this down, scurrying to keep up with this vision-woman. He already knew that the Umbra Staff came from a Red Robe, presumably the same one who created the Gauntlet. This only confirms it. Angus is so intent on watching this strange Red Robe that he trips over a tree root and face-plants, catching himself on his elbows again. He winces and brushes dirt off his skin. When he looks up, the vision is gone.

He is alone again.


	3. Chapter 3

Objectively, this is a very bad twenty-four hours for Angus. It starts bad and it ends just as badly. There’s a happy ending in there somewhere, but it’s somewhat overshadowed by the copious amounts of shit on the way. 

It starts with a briefing. The Reclaimers are going to retrieve the Animus Bell. Three Reclaimers are going to come down, and one of them isn’t going to come back. Angus’ hands are shaking, clenching the edges of his notebook too tightly. The Director doesn’t seem to notice his anxiety, her face grave and her own worry plainly visible. The Reclaimers are taking it way too lightly, joking as they always do, pretending that they aren’t nervous about their upcoming mission. 

Angus bounces his knee and looks towards the door, just a glance. Then he stares. 

Magnus is there, alive and in the flesh, kicking the door open. Angus would have considered this to be a past vision, except for one small detail: Magnus has the Flaming Poisoning Raging Sword of Doom in his hands. The same sword that Angus knows that Magnus  _ does not  _ currently have. And if he’s leaving on the mission right now, that leaves less than an hour of time where Taako would give him the sword and where he would come rushing in, but that doesn’t  _ make any sense _ . And it can’t be after they return from their mission, because Magnus  _ dies  _ in Wonderland- 

He shakes himself. He can deal with that later. Right now, he needs to make sure he gives Taako and Merle all of the information they could possibly need, so at least  _ they  _ make it out alive. 

The vision doesn’t shake off. Angus turns back to the Director and the vision sticks. She’s surrounded by a barrier, her staff in her hands and the Animus Bell on the ground, which means that this is future, which doesn’t make any  _ sense- _

Angus stands. The vision doesn’t end. He blinks, shutting his eyes tight and opening them again. The vision stays. But now it seems faster, seems like it’s going through several minutes at once, like Angus has jumped forward, watching everything in slow motion, until the vision slows back to normal time. 

“Ten.” Tears are streaming down Taako’s cheeks. He raises the Umbra Staff to point at Lucretia. “Nine.” 

Taako’s crying and Angus is terrified of this vision now. He wants this scene to end  _ right now _ . He doesn't understand what’s happened, but then Magnus says something that he doesn’t quite catch, something that’s meant to be soothing, he thinks, a scrap of a name. Angus frantically looks around, looking for clues despite his apprehension, looking for  _ anything  _ that might help him prepare for this, that might let him understand. 

There’s a man in a pair of bright blue jeans with a flask in his hand, passing it to Carey and Killian. They drink and hold their heads. Voidfish ichor. There’s another Voidfish. This man seems familiar. Something about that flash of blue and white and red seems familiar, like he’s seen it before, falling, falling-

There’s another Voidfish. This is not surprising to Angus. He  _ is  _ the world’s greatest detective. And even if he wasn’t, this still would not be a particularly earth-shattering revelation. There isn’t anyone else in this vision-room that he doesn’t recognize. 

The Director. Taako, Merle, Magnus. Davenport, who seems different. Carey, Killian, Noelle. This denim-clad man. Himself, carefully levitating furniture to block the door. He doesn’t look any different than his present self.

The Director. The Animus Bell. Angus’ breathing picks up in realization. He’d suspected for a while now, but he’d never known. The Director-she-

Taako’s tired, he looks exhausted and furious and he’s  _ grieving  _ for someone-

Merle’s injured and he can’t seem to heal himself, he can’t seem to do anything-

Magnus is  _here_ , but he's also  _dead_ -

Angus, he’s wearing the same exact clothing as his vision counterpart, down to his bright blue argyle socks and the dark blue bow tie, his dark gray sweater vest. This isn’t just the future, this is today or tomorrow at the latest. This is  _ now.  _

“-dispel the damn magic!” Magnus’ voice, fuzzy but real in his ear. 

“-not magic, I already told ya, you numbskull! Whatever’s goin’ on here with him, ‘s not magic!” Real Taako, sounding curt and worried. But it’s better than being upset, because that’s what going to happen-

Taako and Merle slipping into the Director’s private office. A different vision, too quick, and he flinches at the whiplash, at the sudden lack of commotion in the room. He looks over his shoulder in the scene and sees himself stealthily follow-

The Director, alone, and she looks so  _ young,  _ so alone. She’s in her office, but key details are missing: the large painting, some of the gadgets on the desk. Past vision. The staff in her hands seems a little dimmer, and has Angus  _ really  _ never noticed it getting steadily brighter? 

A broken wand in Angus’ hands. He doesn’t have another one, he doesn’t have an  _ extra,  _ how is he supposed to cast magic now-

Something  _ whaps  _ against Angus’ head in real life. 

_ It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,  _ a voice says in his mind, a feminine voice that sounds kind of familiar in an odd way. Not like he’s heard the voice before, but like he’s heard something similar. 

It’s enough to snap him out of it, like someone’s pushed him into a very cold lake in the middle of a very hot day. He finds himself on the ground in Magnus’ arms. Angus can’t help but cling, because this might be the last time he ever sees Magnus. Maybe. His latest vision has cast a bit of doubt about that. Magnus is rubbing circles on Angus’ back. 

A smooth cold hand against his forehead. Merle’s soulwood arm. “He’s not burning up or nothin’,” the cleric gruffly says, standing just to Angus’ left. “Must of had a fit or somethin’.” 

Taako’s standing above him next to the Director. He’s half-heartedly scolding his Umbra Staff, muttering something about not hitting small children in their heads without his permission. The Umbra Staff must have acted on its own, and maybe that’s where the voice he heard was coming from, maybe there’s someone  _ inside  _ the umbrella somehow-

He holds his head. That was  _ not  _ a good thought to have. 

“Angus?” The Director sounds worried, tired, concerned. “Are you alright? What happened?” 

“I-I’m fine,” he hisses, rubbing his eyes, sending sparks through his skull. “I-I’m fine, I just, uhhh…” He has no good explanation for this. A vague one will have to do. “It’s a genetic condition, I think, my grandpa used to have fits too.” Maybe he doesn’t have to lie. There’s a chance he could just blurt out the truth. But that seems too dangerous. 

After all, he can’t trust the Director anymore. She’s been lying about the Relics, she’s been hiding the second Voidfish, she’s done  _ something  _ that would make a future Taako very upset at her. 

He’s still half-out of it, his eyes finding it difficult to focus. He tries to stand up and wobbles, one hand on Magnus’ broad shoulder for balance. “Go on your mission. I’ll be fine, I’ll just, uh, rest in my room until you come back.” Really, he wants nothing more than to investigate, but he has a feeling that he’s not going to accomplish anything in his current state. “G-Good luck on your mission, sirs!” His voice cracks. 

“Mm-mm, not letting you walk all the way back to Casa del Ango when you look like you’re two seconds away from passin’ out, my dude,” Taako asserts. He levitates Angus into his arms. “Just Sleep.” 

And he does.

* * *

They return. Magnus is “dead”. The Relic is “destroyed”. And when Merle and Taako slip away, Angus knows to follow. 

He sees it when he’s casting Zone of Truth, out of the corner of his eye, while Merle and Taako easily pass their saving throws. There’s another man here- Barry, his mind supplies- but Angus ignores him in favor of this brief second of future-vision. 

There are guards. A  _ lot  _ of guards, leading him and Taako and Merle and Barry back down the hallway. All of them look to be in a state of semi-shock. They’re going to get caught. 

“We need to hurry up, sirs,” he quickly says, leading the way down the hallway towards the vault door. “We’re going to get caught in a few minutes.” 

Taako doesn’t question him. He takes out his Hole-Thrower and then they’re in the room. The journals, the holy symbol, the maps, Angus ignores it all in favor of crossing to the tank in the room. There’s a second Voidfish, and it’s probably in here. 

He drinks. 

And now everything he’s seen makes sense. Then Taako drinks, then Merle, then Barry, then the doors burst open and they’re caught. 

Lup. That’s one of the first things that Angus truly understands, picks out from the tangled mess of things he’s seen but not comprehended. The weight of this truth makes him stumble. His left hand, the one not holding his wand, grasps Taako’s right hand over the handle of the Umbra Staff. The umbrella. Lup. 

Then Angus sees Lup. Or, rather, he sees himself see Lup, and she’s in the middle of the room, in her lich form, smiling and laughing with Taako, and the Hunger is gone from the chamber, and everything’s okay, just for a second, everything is still. 

“It’s going to be okay, Taako,” he whispers, interrupting the conversation around him. He hasn’t even been paying attention while Lucretia recounts their journey, while Magnus groans in pain and Merle is silent, shocked, and Taako is upset, so angry and sad and every other emotion that comes with the sudden realization that one’s other half has been dead for years. 

Lucretia looks down at him, frowning, leaning on her staff. “Angus. What have you been remembering? Why did you even have anything to remember?” 

He ignores her in favor of sidling closer to Taako, looking up into his mentor’s hopeless eyes. “You’re going to find her. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to turn out okay, Taako, sir.” He swallows hard before the next words are forced out of him. “You’re going to find Lup and then you’re going to find Kravitz, then you’re going to save the world. And that’s not-that’s not optimistic bullshit, sir. That’s just what’s going to happen.” He squeezes Taako’s hand, white-knuckled around the crook of the umbrella. “Just trust me, sir. Please.” 

“You’re a Seer,” Barry quietly says. 

“You-you saw-” Taako’s voice breaks. “You saw it all turning out okay?” 

Angus nods. “We just need to make sure that happens-” 

The ceiling shakes and collapses. The Hunger has found them. Taako is just quick enough to shove Angus backwards, taking the hit from the falling glass and rubble. 

And then there’s a rhino and a hand and so many enemies, and then he gets hit and then his wand  _ breaks _ , and then there’s the Umbra Staff at his feet. Then he’s picking it up and raising it and he feels something come from it that is  _ not  _ his magic. 

Then he sees Lup. For real this time. Then it’s calm and then it’s not, then it’s searching and reuniting and one final stand and a vision that they can all see. 

And then a happy ending. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And he can see it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388864) by [arthoedotcom (avocadomom)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadomom/pseuds/arthoedotcom)




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